


The Witcher (Netflix) Imagines Collection [NSFW]

by eratothemuse



Series: The Witcher (Netflix) Imagines [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Imagine Collection, Imagines Collection, M/M, Multi, NSFW, not safe for work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: This is a collection of imagines [from my blog on tumblr - thranduilsperkybutt] involving Netflix's The Witcher characters! Only NSFW fic is in this collection, so enjoy! Any additional warnings will be posted in each chapter's Notes.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/You
Series: The Witcher (Netflix) Imagines [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587133
Comments: 11
Kudos: 294





	1. Geralt of Rivia - Imagine having sex with Geralt for the first time.

Gif source: [Geralt](https://megmeg-chan.tumblr.com/post/189930908512/cirisfiona-i-watch-the-witcher-on-netflix-for)

> _Imagine having sex with Geralt for the first time._

——— _Request for anon_ ———

A bath was not so easily come by on the road, that was your excuse for bathing together. Creeks and rivers witness a stolen moment for cleanliness, backs to one another and nerves on edge as you wondered if _this time_ would be the time he did something about the tension coiling between the two of you. Then, just as soon as you thought he might just do it, he would abandon you for favor of his clothes, urging you to hurry your own bath so the road could witness your return. Urges simmered and faded in the cool water, only to be stoked by a wayward glance, or a close proximity, until you would find yourself in the same dance during your next bath.

And so it went like this for months, the two of you avoiding the obvious. The temptation.

There was no excuse for you now. After all, this inn had more than one bathhouse, and you were not so desperate for a bath that you need share it with him.

Still, when you enter the bath, Geralt does little other than watch you, leaning against the wooden brim as you dip your toes into the steaming heat of it. His eyes do not avoid you as they do on the road, when your robe falls to the ground and you’re revealed, bare to his inhuman eyes.

You have half a mind to play it off like you always do, but the steam suffocates you, as well as his stare.

Only when you are submerged, dampened and scented by the lavender dew of the oils the inn had offered its travelers, does he dare speak the question you had both been asking yourselves these past months, this time aloud.

“What are you doing, here?”

He knows as well as you do, and you find your courage in the time spent with him to look him in the eye, but you are not so brazen as to avoid the lie at your lips, “Bathing, of course.”

This time, he calls you on it, a growl in his throat as he moves, so quickly you have no hope of avoiding the hand at your throat, or his lips on your own, breathing against them before he captures you, body and soul, “ _Tell me no more of your lies._ ”

The tension snaps, as you melt into his touch.


	2. Geralt of Rivia - Imagine Geralt teaching you to go down on him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW; Oral mention

Gif source: [Geralt](https://megmeg-chan.tumblr.com/post/189861833137/henricavyll-i-thought-youd-have-fangs-or-horns)

> _Imagine Geralt teaching you to go down on him._

——— _Request for anon_ ———

Riding the road with the Witcher, you had said many a thing you would otherwise keep to yourself. He was quiet, for the most part, which made him a good listener to your urge to fill the silence he could set between you.

This, though, you probably should have kept to yourself.

“I am sure you are not,” Geralt comments gruffly, shifting a bit from where he poked the makeshift fire that remained from your caught dinner. His golden eyes watch you now, with far more attention than you had received over the entire last hour of the ebb and flow of your one-sided conversation, and you fluster at the realization that your confession was probably ill-mannered.

But you can’t control it, spewing from your lips as you insist the truth of the cruel words bestowed upon you by your last lover, “That’s what he said, at least. ‘Can’t give head to save my life.’ Can you believe that? I mean, of all things, you would think I could catch onto something as simple as _that_.”

His stare spears you, and you take a swig of the water from your canteen to temper the heat settling into your belly. This whole conversation was a bad idea.

Nothing could prepare you for the way he says it, simple, offered like the most practical thing he could give you, but with a deepness to his tone that hints at the intention there, “Perhaps, you required a better teacher, is all.”


End file.
